T.O.S. I move the keys, they call me the piano man I'm classically trained, nobody do it better man I do my thang, with me and my Beretta man I got that girl, you want her come and get her man Hook X4 Call me the Piano Man Tony Yayo Cartier glasses, Cartier belt Cartier Watch tell me time somewhere else Like Germany, Sweden and Serbia Nigga one or two birds and I'm servin ya I'ma ball like Julius, Erving, Iverson and Manning I got that cannon in that two door phantom Nigga hundred EX sh*t, suicide doors Get a top or low fade, now the body lookin' hard This snake ass niggas is reptiles 'til I shoot em up and fill em up with projectiles Yay' got the best style, Yay' got the best clothes Yay' got the best weed, Yay' got the best hoes Yeah! 50 Cent (Chorus) I move the keys, they call me the piano man I'm classically trained, nobody do it better man I do my thang, with me and my Beretta man I got that girl, you want her come and get her man Hook X4 Call me the Piano Man Lloyd Banks Yeah Fresh out the rimshot, my wheels tick-tock My steel six shot, the paint flip flop My charm truckie that's why they wanna fu*k me 207 McLaren, body like Buffy Old head get rusty, and I'm a can of oil If Hip-Hop do die, a 100 grand'll boil Show up at your bougie event, get your body harmed Slide you all over the stage like Omarion Don't need a party calm, on the pepsi and bacardi bomb Bail ain't nothin, I make a Gotti bond Magician, I can make a dollar flip Stick a whole Corona bottle in a model chick 50 Cent (Chorus) I move the keys, they call me the piano man I'm classically trained, nobody do it better man I do my thang, with me and my Beretta man I got that girl, you want her come and get her man Hook X4 Call me the Piano Man Young Buck I'm richer than a muthafu*ka ridin' in a dirty ass phantom We kill undercovers down here we can't stand em Fill up the door panels and stuff the floor boards I can fit a hundred in a Honda Accord Blood of a drug lord, brain of a baller Hand of a hustler, I'm all about a dollar Everybody's a customer, Nobody's a friend Somebody gotta do it, anybody can win If I did it then, I can do it now When we get 'em in, we just ship 'em out A Gucci briefcase, dressed in a suit & tie Cartier's you can tell that I 50 Cent (Chorus) Move the keys, they call me the piano man I'm classically trained, nobody do it better man I do my thang, with me and my Beretta man I got that girl, you want her come and get her man